


Just Right

by skua



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:29:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11389725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skua/pseuds/skua
Summary: Sid can feel the bobby pins shifting whenever she has an expression, and it’s no wonder models always look so blank if they’re just waiting for everything to fall off them if they so much as sneeze. She grabs one of the glasses and tries to drink without smearing her lipstick everywhere. Thissucks.





	Just Right

Sid’s eye is itchy. Sid’s eye is itchy and it’s been itchy for the last fifteen minutes and she _can’t touch it_ because an hour’s worth of prodding and poking and swearing will be ruined. Her dress is too short; she has to keep tugging on the hem to stop it riding up her thighs to the point of indecency, and she can’t fiddle with her hair like she normally would because it’s twisted into some sort of pile on top of her head that took three stylists an hour to assemble. Geno sidles up to her with two glasses of champagne clutched precariously in one hand and makes a show of cooing over her.

“Bag so tiny! Hair so fancy, Sid!” He reaches out as if to prod it, and Sid bats his hand away. 

“No! It’s structurally unsound!”

She can feel the bobby pins shifting whenever she has an expression, and it’s no wonder models always look so blank if they’re just waiting for everything to fall off them if they so much as sneeze. She grabs one of the glasses and tries to drink without smearing her lipstick everywhere. This _sucks_.

“Grumpy,” says Geno, nudging her with his shoulder. In heels, she’s almost as tall as he is.

“Tired,” says Sid. She gestures at herself. “This. Such a production.”

“Look good.”

“My eye itches,” Sid says grumpily.

“Poor baby. Drink more; I get.” 

Sid drains the glass she’s holding. There’s a heavy sort of tension in her neck, an ache behind her eyes, and the champagne is going to her head already. She reaches instinctively for her purse, then remembers the stupid tiny clutch bag that only has room for her cell and her cards, her usual stash of Tylenol didn’t make the cut. She closes her eyes, breathes slowly through her nose for a second. 

“Sid.” The gentle clink of more glasses being put down nearby. Sid opens her eyes; Geno is frowning at her. “Sid, okay?”

“Headache.”

He immediately looks concerned, crouching down to peer into her face and she regrets saying anything at all. 

“It’s fine, seriously. Stop… whatever it is that you’re doing, people are going to notice.”

“Stop squint like angry cat. People think I smell.”

“You do smell.” She shoves him lightly. “And I’m not _squinting_. It’s really bright in here.”

Geno frowns some more, and carefully presses the backs of his knuckles to her forehead. His fingers are cool, and she feels the tension between her eyebrows relax a little, forgets to worry that they’re in a room full of people. 

“Mm.”

“Come on, inside.” Geno takes hold of her elbow and gives her a little tug. “Darker inside. Is candles, pretty.”

It is darker inside the main ballroom, and there’s water on the tables. Sid slumps ungracefully into one of the empty seats and fills a glass. Tugs her stupid dress down. 

“Going find Tylenol,” Geno says. “Stay.” He points at her sternly and she waves him off. 

“Go, go. I’m fine.”

Her lipstick feels greasy and unpleasant and leaves sticky marks on her glass. Sid wrinkles her nose and resists the urge to wipe her mouth clean on her arm. Ugh. The dark is better, but people are starting to trickle in, talking and laughing loudly and she has to sit through two more _hours_ of this before she can go home. 

By the time Geno returns the room is full of people, and Sid’s eyes feel like they’re about to throb out of her skull. She gulps down a couple of pills and breathes tightly through her nose. 

“Have to speak, later,” Geno says, sitting close and tipping his head at the stage. “OK?”

“I don’t know. No. I have to, though.” A sharp agony suddenly stabs behind her eyes and she hunches a little in her seat.

“Sid!” Geno hisses. She bats at him. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the pills, I’ll just… I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

A wave of pain and nausea throbs through her again as she stands, and Geno almost knocks over the chair as he scrambles to follow her. 

“Coming,” he says stubbornly when she turns on him. “Make sure head not explode.”

They shuffle through the crowd as fast as they can, Geno crowded against her back, gently maneuvering them past people who look too eager to talk. When they finally make it to a bathroom, Geno slides in right behind her and locks the door. 

“What are you doing?”

“Told you, Sid. Check your head.”

“You’re ridiculous, it’s just a headache. I just need… fuck - ”

“What you need? I get.”

“I need to be at home.” Sid slumps miserably against the sink, head a mess of throbbing fuzz. “I need my bed, a hot shower, and a fucking orgasm, alright? And I have to go up there and… say things. I can’t think.” 

She can’t even press her fingers against her eyes; it’ll just smudge the neat wings that were painstakingly painted there earlier. She closes them instead, trying to breathe deeply. It’s quiet at least, tucked away from the ballroom down a corridor.

Sid feels Geno’s hand against the side of her head, cupping it carefully so he doesn’t mess up her hair. He comes a little closer, coaxes her head against the bulk of his chest and she sags a little into him, into the steady warmth of him, the soft sounds of his breathing. 

“Can help, Sid.” He sounds… nervous?

“What?”

“Can’t help with bed, shower,” he says, “unless you want run?” She sags a little further into him and he gently rubs her head; they both know she has to stay, has to put in her appearance. “Can help, though.” She hears him swallow. 

And Sid’s so slow-headed that she doesn’t quite get it at first. “Only if you want,” says Geno, “friends do. Will help you, Sid.”

And oh. _Oh_. He means - does he mean? They’re in a public bathroom. _With a locking door,_ says the little voice in the back of Sid’s head. With a locking door, okay, but it’s _Geno_. She can’t - Sid can’t -

The little voice does a very good impression of thoroughly unimpressed silence. Fuck.

“Um,” Sid manages. “How… what did you-?”

She feels a tension she hadn’t known was there release in Geno’s fingers where they’re still resting against her hair. She isn’t sure she can look at him, but it seems wrong not to, somehow.

“How you like, Sid?”

“Uh.” Sid feels her face go very red. Her head throbs a little more.

“Fingers? Mouth?”

And fuck, that’s - Sid feels hot all over. She can’t even believe she’s considering this, that he’s asking this. She swallows thickly, throat working, unable to make herself ask for anything.

“Hm,” says Geno, and she can hear a little smirk in his voice, “think you like I lick you, Sid.”

Fuck, fuck, yes she would. 

“Think you want tongue. Soft. Get you just right, yes?”

“ _Yeah,_ ” she gets out, mouth dry as a desert. 

Just saying it makes her prickle with sudden nervous sweat. Geno steps away from her, and then they’re looking right at each other, Geno’s eyes wide and dark and his expression softer than she’s ever seen it. She can’t help the way her eyes fall to his mouth, the fullness of it and a surge of heat hits her so suddenly it’s all she can do not to grab him and shove him to his knees in front of her. She closes her eyes and tips her head back, breath gone shallow with pain and excitement. 

She feels him. Feels him drop quietly to his knees - and fuck, his _knee_ , but as she reaches out to pull him back up she feels the warm tickle of his breath against her bare thigh and suddenly she can’t think any more.

“Okay?”

Sid can’t open her eyes. It’ll hurt, and she’ll have to look at him and _that_ will hurt, and instead she slides her fingers into his thick hair and tugs him closer. With one hand, he pushes her dress up towards her belly. Sid grabs hold of it and Geno lets go to rub her ankle gently with his thumb, then he licks her through her panties. Sid nearly bites through her bottom lip.

She’s-- she’s not sure if it’s pleasure or if it’s something else. He licks her again, light but not teasing, tonguing at the scalloped lace edges of her panties and Sid wants to cry out but they’re in a _public bathroom_ and all she can do is gasp for breath and grab at his head. He’s not even touching her clit, just soft little licks all over and she can tell he’s being careful not to jolt her as he spreads one big hand over her thigh.

A thick swell of tenderness goes through her and she pets at his hair. The throbbing behind her eyes is a little duller, the tension in her neck easing and she feels herself go liquid as he tugs her panties to one side and slips his tongue into her.

“Ah - _yeah_ , that’s good.”

And he is, he’s _so good_ , giving her more where she wants it, less when she squirms away, until he’s got his tongue flat and light and rhythmic against her clit and she’s probably pulling out chunks of his hair, back arching off the wall.

She comes on his mouth, on two of his fingers, gasping stupidly, and feels her legs turn jellylike even as he grabs her by the waist, keeping her steady as he works her through her orgasm until she’s shuddering away from the contact.

“Okay?” Geno says eventually, voice thick and dark as he slides his fingers out of her. They rest wetly against her thigh. Sid’s eyes are closed, mouth open, tingling from head to toe. The tips of her fingers have gone a little numb.

“Uh,” she says intelligently, forcing her eyes open to look down at him. He looks… incredibly smug, mostly. Smug, but still slick with her, and she reaches out one clumsy hand to slide her thumb across his wet bottom lip. 

“Mm,” says Geno. “Head better?”

And yeah, she still feels like shit, but the worst of the headache has gone and she’s left with just a vague throbbing behind her eyes; she can probably get on stage without passing out, or puking. The relief is probably part of why her knees are still so wobbly. Probably. Definitely. She tries to ignore the way she has to concentrate a little harder to stand as he gently tugs her clothes back into place. 

“God. Yes, thank you. I - thank you. Sorry.”

“No ‘sorry’, Sid.” He stands with a wince, and… okay, wow. That’s. Right there. Sid glances away, then berates herself a little. Selfish!

“Uh, would you like - I can - ?” She touches her tongue to the corner of her mouth.

“Ruin pretty lipstick, Sid.” He adjusts himself. It doesn’t really do much good, as far as she can see.

“I could… with my, um,” she wiggles her fingers a little. A dry handjob is better than an awkward boner, after all. 

“Mess,” he says, a little forlornly. “Nice suit. Is fine, Sid. Was good for you, for head. I like too much,” he adds, rueful.

“Okay. But I owe you, alright?”

“Sid, no. Friends don’t owe.”

“I want to,” she says stubbornly, because she’s realising that she really does. Wants to see Geno more messed up than he is now, wants more of him than he’s just given her. Sid slides her thumb over the waistband of his pants, fingers soaking up the heat of his body through the thin material of his dress shirt. He lets out a heavy breath.

“Sid.” His eyes have gone dark and liquid.

“Yeah.”

“Have to go back.”

“Yeah.”

He takes her hand, then brings it to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to her wrist, tender. 

“When you better, when no tiny bag, fancy hair. If you still want? I say yes, Sid. Always yes for you.” He drops her hand, then presses his thumb ever-so-gently against the centre of her bottom lip, careful not to smear her lipstick. Sid swallows, closes her eyes. Feels Geno take a step away from her. When she opens them, he’s fussing with his shirt in the mirror, and the space between them feels magnetic. 

“When I’m better,” Sid says, trying not to sway towards him, “I want your dick in my mouth.”

“Sid!,” he says, strangled. He presses his hand unsubtly to the front of his pants.

“Fix your shirt,” Sid says, gleeful. “I’ll see you out there.”


End file.
